


FE3H Whump Week 2020

by legendoflauren1



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Annette Fantine Dominic needs a hug, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Broken Bones, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, Claude von Riegan Needs a Hug, Crying, Drowning, Everyone Needs A Hug, Evil Claude von Riegan, FE3H Whump Week 2020, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Head Injury, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Injury, Light Angst, Manipulation, Mercedes von Martritz Needs a Hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort, More Fluff, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Oh My God, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Psychological Torture, Resuscitation, Screaming, Stabbing, Torture, Vomiting, War, Younger Sylvain, a pinch of fluff, coughing up blood, graphic description of blood, lots of blood, mentions of abuse, so much blood..., throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendoflauren1/pseuds/legendoflauren1
Summary: all tags will be updated with each new entry I put into this. and please take it easy on me since this is my very first Whump Week so I might not be the best at this.Day 1: Torture and Impaled HandsDay 2: Stabbed and Blood from MouthDay 3: Forced to WatchDay 4: Out of AirDay 5: Panic AttackDay 6: Dragging Along GroundDay 7: Hiding Injury
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Mercedes von Martritz, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle, Leonie Pinelli/Ignatz Victor, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Kudos: 18





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings will be posted in the notes before each Whump.

Hey guys! So this is the first ever Whump Week I am participating in so some of my entries might not be the best but I just wanted to show my work to the world and see what they thought of it. As seen in the notes (hopefully) I will be putting warnings before each of the stories, since I don't wish to trigger anyone or offend anyone. 

Day 1: Torture and Impaled Hands  
Day 2: Stabbed and Blood from Mouth  
Day 3: Forced to Watch  
Day 4: Out of Air  
Day 5: Panic Attack and Tears of Fear  
Day 6: Dragging along Ground  
Day 7: Hiding Injury


	2. Day 1: Torture and Impaled Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TWSITD have managed to kidnap Claude and will go through any means necessary to get him to talk, but when he begins to ask questions about who they are and where his friends are, things begin to go downhill for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Blood, torture and manipulation

Claude woke up to a stinging pain in his hands. At first, he couldn’t see anything and thought that he had died, but eventually, his eyes became adjusted to the dark room. As his vision became more focused, he began to make out his surroundings, trying to get a sense of familiarity. The walls were black with strange neon blue lights on the floors, walls and along the ceiling. He looked down at his hands and saw that there were some spikes on chains that had been stabbed into the backs of both his hands. His clothes were all bloody and ripped, as if he was attacked by some rabid animal. But he refused to scream or freak out, lest he want more blood to flow from his hands like a river.

As he struggled to figure out where he was, he heard a door open in the room. He looked up and saw a man with pale as paper skin, milky white eyes and white and black hair. Claude noticed that he was wearing a black and dark purple robe. As soon as he saw the outfit, it hit him. This was the same guy that had hit the professor into the canyon where they slept for 5 years. Rage filled Claude, adrenaline pumped through him, the pain in his hands had ceased. Claude moved into a crouching position but could barely stand, his legs in extreme amounts of pain.

“Now, now,” the man had said. “No need to get all rowdy.” The man walked over to Claude and just stared at him. Claude looked up at him slightly, his vision blurry from the blood he’d lost, and made out no expression on the man’s face.

“W-who are you?” Claude stammered out, trying to keep his composure. The man crouched down to his level and looked down at his hands. He grabbed his right hand and held onto the spike that had been stabbed into it. Claude held his breath but began to scream in pain as the man began to push the spike further into his skin, blood beginning to flow faster from the wound, like a river during a flood. The strange man didn’t stop digging the spike in until it had burst through the palm of Claude’s hand. When that happened, Claude screamed so loud, he thought his vocal cords would burst.

Once the man was done with that hand, he stopped and looked into Claude’s eyes, staring into his soul.

“I am Thales,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. “Do you have any other questions?” Claude now had an expression that could only be described as terrified beyond belief. His eyes were wide, tears were forming and flowing, and more blood had been spread along his clothes.

“Where are my friends?” Claude had asked, falling for Thales’ trap. Thales had grabbed the spike that was on Claude’s left hand, inflicting more terror within him. For this one, he began to push the spike in with more force, but somehow managed to make it slower, making the pain excruciating for the yellow-caped man. He could feel the tissue in his hands being ripped apart slowly, the veins being cut open, and his skin giving way to the sharp object and tearing open, revealing another river of blood that poured from him.

“They’re back at the Monastery,” Thales said. “But they have yet to notice that you’re gone.” Claude drooped his head down once more. His closest friends didn’t notice he was gone, and they probably didn’t even care that he was gone either. He could hear Hilda in his head saying, _Finally, I don’t have to be bothered every 5 seconds by him_. He could also hear Lysithea and Lorenz saying something similar, and it hurt his heart. 

“We’re going to keep you here if they ever arrive,” Thales informed him. “Since they are your friends.” Claude looked up at him with empty eyes and a pained expression.

“Don’t bother,” he said, his voice wavering. “They’re never gonna come for me.” Thales just laughed. His plan was finally starting to come into place. The leader of the Alliance was nearly broken in half, vulnerable, not caring if his friends came for him, all things a leader shouldn’t be. Thales grabbed a vial that he had been working on and held it up to Claude’s lips, tilting it so he would be forced to drink it. When he had drunk the entire vial, Claude’s eyes had taken a strange purple glow and a strange purple aura could be seen around him.

“Now it’s time for the real fun to begin.” Thales said as Claude ripped the spikes and chains out from his hands, his breathing haggard and his voice raspy.

“The one who wields the Sword of the Creator,” Claude said in a low, gravely voice. “I will come for you.” His expression was one of hatred as his wounds managed to heal on their own and the purple aura around him grew darker and larger as he began to walk towards the door, a devilish smile plastered onto his face.


	3. Day 2: Stabbed and Blood from Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercedes helps the professor and Dimitri defeat some bandits that are hiding out in the Valley of Torment. Annette tags along because wherever Mercedes goes, she goes. But things don't always go the way you want them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Lots of Blood, Graphic Descriptions of Gore, Vomiting

What was the professor thinking? Making Mercedes learn how to become a Mortal Savant, putting her in the front lines where all the danger was. But Mercedes being the kind woman she is, accepted the request from the professor and was surprisingly successful. It helped that she had Annette and Lysithea help her with learning Reason magic and it had been a breeze. What wasn’t quite as easy was learning how to wield a sword properly. She had help from Felix and Dimitri in that field, and she preferred Dimitri helping her learn since he was more calm and patient whereas Felix got irritated with her whenever her grip on the blade wasn’t correct or she took the wrong stance when they sparred. But despite all the hardship, she managed to fulfill the professor’s request and became a Mortal Savant. 

The battle was a tough one. The Blue Lions were clearing out some of the Empire’s soldiers and bandits that were located in Ailell, the Valley of Torment. Before the battle, Mercedes was given a Levin Sword to use during this battle, something about using her magic abilities and using them with sword techniques. She was confused but used the sword anyways, and found that she was nearly invincible while using it, but this only made her a prime target for the enemy. She still had use of her Faith magic, healing her friends who were close and using Nosferatu when she was injured. 

There weren’t many bandits and soldiers that were left, so Mercedes brought out her Steel Sword that she had grown accustomed to. She stayed in the backlines like she used to when she was a Bishop and focused on healing her friends when she knew they needed help. But one assassin managed to sneak into the backlines and headed straight for Mercedes. Annette had stayed in the backlines with her and used her magic to attack enemies from a long distance along with Lysithea. Annette looked over to Mercedes to see how she was doing when she noticed the assassin making a beeline for her friend. 

Before she could get the words out, the assassin had shot an arrow at Mercedes, which landed in the back of her shoulder, prompting her to turn around. 

“Mercie!” Annette shouted but she was too late. The assassin held his blade tight and stabbed Mercedes in her chest, just above her stomach and just below her heart. Fear gripped Annette and she stood frozen in fear. Her best friend had been stabbed right in front of her, and yet she did nothing. Her rage fuelled her magic as her eyes began to glow a sky blue color and wind magic burst forth from her hands. 

With magic energy flowing through her body, she brought her hands together, joining the two Cutting Gale spells she had, making them even stronger, before she unleashed the spells onto the assassin. He flew back, hitting his head against a rock, his skull and neck breaking with a sickening crack, but Annette felt no remorse. Anyone who hurt or even attempted to kill her friends deserved no remorse of any kind. Once she knew that he was dead, the magic energy began to disappear, and she ran over to Mercedes, who was lying on the ground, blood pooling below her. 

Annette said nothing as she frantically looked along her friend, trying to find where the blade had entered, which was hard for her since Mercedes’ Savant robes were covered in her own blood. 

“Hang on, Mercie,” Annette told her, her voice wavering and watery. “I’m gonna get you out of this.” She saw Mercedes give a faint nod as she hovered her hands over the blonde’s back. Healing magic began to pour forth from her hands, like a light drizzle from the rain. Somehow, she managed to close the gaping wound on her back, but only mended it to the point that it wasn’t bleeding quite as heavily. Annette had been learning Faith magic from Mercedes as a way of Mercedes paying her back for learning Reason magic from her. 

Fear shot through her once again when she heard a small choking sound coming from her friend. Annette quickly turned her over onto her back and nearly vomited right there at the sight of her friend’s face. After all these months that she was at war, she thought she’d be used to all the blood and gore that was seen on the battlefield, but nothing could prepare her for the sight right in front of her. Mercedes’ mouth was overflowing with blood, her eyes had some blood leaking out from them and the blood was slowly trickling out. 

Annette lifted Mercedes up with all her strength, and she felt how limp her body was getting by the minute. She tilted her friend’s head down and in doing so, made the blood pour out from her mouth. That’s when she felt her chest begin to slowly rise and fall again. 

“Annie…” Mercedes said weakly, coughing up more blood as she spoke. Annette hugged her, tears in her eyes. Without saying a word, the ginger grabbed her canteen and gently put it against the blonde’s lips as she began to drink slowly from it. When Mercedes finished, she heard faint footsteps approaching and was riddled with fear but calmed down when she saw that it was just the professor and Dimitri walking over to her to see if she was alright. They bombarded her with questions and suddenly, her stomach began to hurt badly and felt her throat swell slightly as her tongue began to go dry. Before she could tell anyone what was happening and before even she knew what was happening, Mercedes began to vomit onto the ground. 

The sweltering heat, the amount of blood lost and many other factors would have contributed to causing her to throw up. Her arms went weak, as did the rest of her body. Nobody said a word and no talking was needed, as Annette rubbed her back reassuringly before throwing her friend’s arm around her shoulder and helping her stand up. Ashe rushed over and assisted by throwing Mercedes’ other arm over his shoulder and carrying her back to camp. 

Byleth had seen copious amounts of blood, violence and gore for a lifetime but nothing could get them used to nearly losing the students that they loved dearly everyday during this painful war.


	4. Day 3: Forced to Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Adrestians are invading, and Petra is scared beyond belief, frantically searching for her friends nd family in hopes that they still walk amongst them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Death and Dead Bodies

Petra had always looked up to the sky with hope. But on this fateful day, she looked to the sky in fear. The Adrestian Empire was invading and they had stormed the palace where her family was at, while she had been out in the woods as she usually did every week with her friends. Her friends had run to their homes to find their family and their other friends along with Petra. Her friends were scared for their families but Petra was beyond terrified, since her family was of royal lineage and as she learned from her family, whenever there is a war on a kingdom or monarchy of sorts, the attackers go for the royal family in order to deal the most damage to the monarchy they were trying to destroy. 

Terrifying screams filled Petra’s ears as she ran as fast as she could to the palace. She dared not think the worst that could’ve happened to her family when she was gone. She saw many houses that were already crumbling and set on fire by the Imperials. Petra didn’t stop running until she noticed one house that had belonged to one of her friends that still stood.  _ Maybe if I ask them, they can help me, _ she thought to herself as she ran towards the house, dodging the many piles of rubble that were littered along the ground and the small fires that had started in the small patches of dry grass, since Brigid was in the middle of its summer and it hadn’t rained for a few weeks, making the fire even more effective. 

Petra pushed the door open but immediately wished that she had kept running back to her home. The walls had blood splattered all over them, bodies were slumped over, one was against the wall, and the other was lying motionless on the floor. The one that Petra assumed was the father had multiple stab wounds that went all along his body, the mother was the one that had the worst injuries, her head was bashed in and an axe was cleaved into her skull. Petra was beyond terrified and her blood turned to ice when she heard the voice of a child pleading from upstairs. She recognized the voice as one of her close friends and nearly ran up to help them out but stopped herself when their pleading cries were cut off brutally after she heard a loud thud. 

Petra ran back to the front door but found that it had closed and was somehow barricaded during that small window of time she was in the house. She grabbed onto the door handle and pushed and pulled with all of her might, but to no avail. 

“Where do you think you’re off to?” she heard a deep, male voice say behind her. Petra froze in place and looked back towards the stairs, only to see a group of Imperial soldiers standing in front of the stairs. The soldier in the front had a strange light blue hue in his hair and his eyes were also a blueish color. Petra couldn’t understand them, so she had no way of responding to them. Before she knew it, the man walked up to her and grabbed her arm hard, pain shooting through her arm under the man’s tight grip. 

“I think she might have some connection with the Prince,” the man said, pointing to the clothes that Petra was wearing, since they were branded with the mark of the royal family. He practically threw her towards the other men he had with him, she could feel excruciating grips all along her arms and hands as the men held her tightly to prevent her from running off. “Now time to see His Highness and the joke he calls a Prince.” the man said once more before he removed the things that were barricaded in front of the door in order for them to leave and head to the palace, not before they set the house on fire as they did with the surrounding houses.

“Ah, your Highness,” the man taunted the King, walking closer to him. The King only responded with a glare as he brandished his spear, the Prince and his wife also wielding weapons of their own, the Prince a sword, his wife a bow. All the man did was chuckle. “Now, now. No need for that. I have simply come to offer you a trade.” Petra was hidden behind the blockade of soldiers that were with the blue-haired man. The man motioned for the soldiers to disperse and show the King what they had to offer.

The soldiers made way to reveal a scared and teary-eyed Petra, much to the astonishment of her family. 

“Petra? Ka’u ipo?” her father said, surprised and immediately worried for his beloved daughter. The King, Petra’s grandfather, raised a hand, signaling for silence. 

“What is it you wish for?” he asked, his cold, hard eyes locked onto the invaders from the outside. 

“Finally,” the man said, clearing his throat. “I wish for the throne for our dear Emperor in exchange for your granddaughter’s life.” The King growled, torn between keeping his throne or keeping his granddaughter alive. He looked at Petra, a sad gleam in his eyes. 

“E kala mai e ka mea li’ili’i,” her grandfather said, a single tear flowing down her face. Her face filled with terror as the King hit the butt of his staff against the palace floor, the  _ clang _ sound echoing throughout the throne room. “ I will not give you the throne.” A grin grew on the man’s face as he chuckled once more. 

“You’d rather sacrifice the life of your granddaughter than give up your throne?” he taunted, grabbing Petra forcefully, her parents pleading for the King to change his mind. He held a dagger up to Petra’s throat, the blade mere inches from digging into her flesh. “You are a sorry excuse for a King.” He took his blade back, but before he could stab the young girl, he felt an arrow pierce his shoulder. He looked up and saw the Prince charging at him with his sword, his wife not far behind with her own sword. 

The man grinned as he threw the dagger onto the floor, replacing it with an axe his men handed him. He threw Petra towards the soldiers once more, who held her again, forcing her to watch the battle unfold. The man wielded his axe with two hands, making his swings slow yet powerful, not the best weapon to use against a shortsword, nevertheless two of them. Yet somehow, the man seemed to be winning the fight, fighting only her father, and not her mother. Her mother took advantage of this and went straight for the soldiers holding her daughter captive in their tight grips. 

She caught the soldiers off guard, killing 3 of them in her first swing. The Prince’s wife was well known for being an excellent swordsman, being able to cut her enemies in half with just one swing of her sword. She then proceeded to hit the other soldiers with the butt of her sword, knocking them out cold, but the soldier who was holding onto Petra was quick and managed to counter one of her swings and knocked her down. Petra looked over to her father for help but she saw the man towering over him, his axe raised in the air high.

“A’ole!” Petra screamed as the axe came down onto her father, the sickening sound of metal cutting into flesh piercing her ears. Tears flowed from her face, sobs soon following. Her mother had managed to regain her footing and defeated the soldier that held her daughter captive. She hugged her daughter tight, not wanting to let her go, but she soon saw the corpse of her dead husband lying against the cold, stone floor. Tears flooded her eyes and she too, began to sob. But she fought through it and picked up her daughter as Brigidian soldiers flooded the room, and ran outside. 

“Maika’i paha ‘oe?” her mother asked, looking over her daughter. Petra shook her head, sobs wracking her body, shaking uncontrollably. Her mother looked back towards the palace, worried about her father-in-law, the King. “Pono wau e ho’i i loko,” Petra’s eyes grew wide with fear, her grip on her mother tightening. “Hele i ka wahie a pe’e.” Petra nodded before her mother gave her a kiss on her temple, before Petra ran into the woods, looking at her mother the entire time. Her mother felt scared herself, for Petra, for herself, for the entire nation of Brigid. She ran inside, unsure that she would make it out, just as her husband didn;t make it, a great warrior cut down by an outsider. Rage filled her as the man stood there before the King, his axe coated in blood.

The strange man was somehow restrained by the Prince’s wife before she died from the serious injuries he gave her. The two made a negotiation; the King would still be able to rule, but his granddaughter would have to come and live in Fodlan as a vassal of the Empire. When the soldiers of Brigid were sent out to find the now orphaned Princess, they found her hiding in a tree, looking at the sky with tears in her eyes, the same sky she would look at as she watched her father hunt birds, the same sky she would stargaze at with her mother and the same sky she would look at clouds with her friends. Now, she only looked at the sky with sadness and hatred at the Empire that tore her family from her.


	5. Day 4: Out of Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was never meant to take a turn for the worst. All Hilda had wanted was a fun day out at the lake with her fellow Golden Deer. But sadly, the fates were against her this particular day, as no one reacted the way she needed them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drowning, Coughing Up Water

They had arrived at the lake, it was just as the pictures had shown them when Claude was looking for a place the Golden Deer could hang out and relax at. Claude and Leonie were the first ones to race each other into the lake, followed by Rapheal and Lysithea. Ignatz and Marianne helped set up some chairs they had brought with them, in case anyone needed to take a break, before they too headed for the water. Hilda was already in the water, splashing Claude and annoying Lysithea by splashing her too. Marianne surprisingly ran into the water like everyone else did, and crashed right into Hilda. She frantically apologized but Hilda silenced her by giving her a soft kiss on the lips. 

Marianne wasn’t used to this kind of affection, so she was hesitant to show displays of affection in public, or even around the other Golden Deer, but Hilda was always the bold one in their relationship, giving Marianne kisses, holding her hand, and hugging her really tightly whenever they were near other people. The two sat there in the water in each other's arms, staring at each other, until Claude splashed more water onto Hilda before he swam away as fast as he could. Hilda gave Marianne another kiss before she swam after Claude, Marianne giggling at how competitive she could get with Claude.

After an hour or two, Lysithea, Leonie, Marianne and Ignatz were all sitting on the shore in the chairs they had set up earlier. Lysithea was nearly asleep, all the swimming and splashing had tuckered her out. Leonie wasn’t far behind but she tried her hardest to make it seem like she wasn’t tired at all. Marianne and Ignatz were taking a short break before they would go back into the water, Marianne watching Hilda and Claude swimming laps with each other, and Ignatz was too busy staring lovingly at Leonie to notice Rapheal sneaking up behind him, drenched from the water. 

“Boo!” Raphael yelled as Ignatz and Lysithea screamed, Ignatz falling out of his chair. Leonie, Marianne and Rapheal started to laugh hysterically at their reactions, Ignatz awkwardly joining in, laughing just as merrily as they were. Lysithea hadn’t quite recovered, the girl looking as if she had seen a ghost of some sort. They all heard laughing coming from the lake and saw Hilda and Claude pushing their heads below the water as a way of play-fighting. Marianne was a little worried for them but she knew that they wouldn’t go too far with their fighting. Hilda pushed Claude below the water, and when he surfaced, Hilda was on his shoulder, laughing and yelling at him to show mercy before he threw back into the water. But when he threw her down, she didn’t come back up to the surface.

“Hilda, where are you?” he yelled, hoping he was loud enough to hear in the water. Marianne began to feel frightened, her girlfriend not being visible below the water worried her too. It had been a good minute of Claude and the others frantically searching for Hilda before she burst out of the water and shoved Claude underneath. She laughed as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and a few began to feel slightly annoyed at her. Hilda ran back to the shore over to where everyone was, breathing quickly.

“What’s wrong guys?” she said in between breaths. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Marianne gave her a small annoyed glare, crossing her arms slightly.

“We saw you go down and you didn’t come back up,” Marianne told her, her tone a bit annoyed and mad. “We all assumed the worst had happened. You even worried Claude.” Hilda looked at her with a small frown on her face. 

“Geez, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare all of you.” She looked at everyone with the same expression. She looked back at Marianne, an apologetic expression on her face. “I’m going to go do one more lap around the lake, then I’ll rest.” she told them, walking back into the water.

The water was still cold but Hilda didn’t seem to mind, it helped take her mind off of what had happened. She didn’t mean to make them all worried, she was just playing a joke. Hilda was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice that she was close to the deeper part of the lake, the water even colder than normal. Hilda decided that now was the time to head back to the shore and turned and began to swim back. She was halfway there when her arms decided to give out from the non-stop swimming and playing earlier. Her heart dropped as she began to sink into the water, completely submerged in mere seconds. 

Hilda used the strength in her legs to get her back to the surface, but her legs were also close to giving out, their strength fading. Soon, she started splashing and screaming for her friends’ help, as she began to swallow vast amounts of the lake water as she tried to keep her head afloat. She noticed that the others looked over at her but didn’t seem alarmed, possibly from her stunt she pulled earlier. She knew that they wouldn’t come to help her, thanks to her act she pulled earlier.

“Please, help me!” she screamed before her head went back underwater. This time, she didn’t come up for air. Water began to fill her mouth once more, her throat burning from the water she swallowed. Despite the lack of air, Hilda tried to scream but only allowed even more water to fill her lungs. Her vision grew darker, her body began to feel cold and then, numb. The last thing she remembers before she passed out was of the water rippling and splashing and a light blue colour filling her eyes.

“I got her!” Marianne yelled to the others at the shore. Claude rushed over to her as Marianne carefully placed Hilda onto the shoreline. Claude dropped his head to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. He heard nothing but wasn’t ready to give up the fight with this and began to press his hands onto her chest, trying hard to resuscitate his best friend. After a few tries, he began to give mouth-to-mouth, trying to put air into her lungs. Marianne was practically bawling at this point, begging for Hilda to open her eyes. Some of the others stood near Marianne, providing comfort, and others could just stand and watch, helpless.

“Claude, please stop.” Marianne said through her sobs, grabbing onto Hilda. Claude wasn’t ready to give up this fight, and raised his fist and began to pound on her chest, tears beginning to flow from his face. Marianne pleaded with him more and begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Come on, Hilda,” he yelled as he began to hit her chest harder. Then, as if the Goddess herself was looking down on them, Hilda shot up and water sprayed from her mouth. She sat there, coughing up more water as Marianne hugged her and didn’t let go, even when the others told her to. After Hilda finished coughing, she sat there, taking deep breaths to try and get her body warm. Lysithea grabbed a towel and threw it over Hilda in an attempt to warm her up. Hilda only nodded in thanks at her, afraid to speak. “I think we should head back.” Claude suggested, everyone nodding in agreement. Hilda tried her best to laugh but only succeeded at coughing up more water. 

  
Hilda fell asleep as the group drove back to Claude’s house, dropping everyone off at their houses and Marianne volunteered to carry Hilda into her house and take care of her. Claude arrived at his house and decided to take a nap. Before he rested, he prayed and thanked the Goddess for sparing Hilda, even though he wasn’t a religious person. He managed to fall asleep with one thought on his mind.  _ I didn’t lose someone again.  _


	6. Day 5: Panic Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All was going on well for Linhardt on the mission, but not everything goes to plan. But luckily, he has someone by his side to comfort him with his fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, Panic Attacks

Linhardt wanted this war to be over. He despised being light-headed from people bleeding out everywhere, didn’t he? That’s why he became a healer, to focus on not causing any of this bleeding and death, but there were few times where he had to end someone’s life on the battlefield using his magic, the one thing he wished to never use them for. That’s why he specifically requested that he be relocated to the backlines with Marianne and Mercedes, so he wouldn’t have to fight that often. The professor accepted his request and put him in the backlines, but every now and then, an enemy would sneak into the backlines to attack the healers, and Linhardt would have to use his magic for the opposite purpose he intended to use them for. 

Caspar was the complete opposite of Lin. He was always eager to go into battle and get into fights with other people to demonstrate how strong he was, though a majority of the fights he started, he lost. Whenever they would come back to the monastery, Caspar would either have to thoroughly wash his armor, or throw it out entirely with the large amounts of blood that was on it. Luckily, he knew how much Linhardt hated the sight, smell and the presence of blood, and threw out multiple pairs of armor instead of washing them off, though he was scolded every now and then for “wasting” armor by constantly throwing them out. 

Linhardt was crouching behind some rubble from a nearby house, his back hunched over. The professor had asked them to help them clear out some bandits who were looting and destroying nearby villages, and Linhardt decided to tag along with Caspar in order to keep him from getting seriously injured. Okay, that was a lie. Caspar had practically begged Linhardt to come along and Linhardt, being unable to resist Caspar’s puppy-dog eyes, finally gave in to his pleas. But the battle wasn’t going the way they wished, with the bandits managing to ambush them and catch them off-guard. 

Linhardt had been hiding behind the rubble in order to provide him cover from the enemy, and give him enough distance from the enemy to be able to safely heal the others. But he wasn’t paying close attention and didn’t hear the bandit that came barreling out from the bushes and charged at him. Linhardt noticed and readied a simple Fire spell but saw Caspar running towards him, his axe raised. 

“Linhardt!” Caspar yelled as his axe penetrated the bandit’s flesh, a sickening cracking sound filled Linhardt’s ears as blood splashed against his face. The irony smell began to fill his nostrils, overwhelming him. Suddenly, small flashes from past brutal battles filled his mind, causing him to breathe quickly as his heart beat increased. He could feel the blood slowly dripping off of his face, his stomach hurting the most excruciating way. Linhardt tried to take deep breaths but every time he did, the smell of the blood on his face would get even stronger to the point where he was struggling to breathe. After a few moments, he felt something cold splash on his face, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed that some of the blood had washed off from his face and saw Caspar standing there with his hands dripping with water. 

“What was that for?” Linhardt asked, slightly annoyed. 

“You were covered in blood,” Caspar explained. “And I was shouting your name but you looked like you were about to pass out.”

Linhardt began to think about what he had experienced. During many battles, his stomach would hurt if he watched too long, but he had never reacted like this before. After doing a little bit more thinking he realised what had happened. He had a panic attack. He’d heard about panic attacks before, mostly from Bernadetta, but he himself had never experienced its terror. Linhardt wiped his sleeve across his face in an attempt to wipe some more of the blood off, and succeeded in making his sleeve covered in blood. He tried to stand up but found that his knees were weak and his legs were shaking uncontrollably. 

“I think I need to rest for a little.” Linhardt said hesitantly, half expecting Caspar to tell him that this was no time for napping.

“Okay. I’ll stay here and keep watch in case anyone else tries to hurt you,” Linhardt looked at him in surprise. Before he could ask why he was doing such a thing, Caspar grabbed his face gently and gave him a light kiss. Linhardt’s face grew warm when the blue-haired boy pulled away, his own face a light shade of pink. “Now get some rest.” Linhardt nodded as he began to lie down and look at the sky as Caspar sat nearby and kept watch like he said he would. Linhardt’s gaze eventually fell upon him, a small smile on his face. He felt happy at the thought that Caspar was willing to protect him, and was concerned about him too. All in all, he was happy the two of them could never be apart, no matter how badly they wanted to be. 


	7. Day 6: Dragging Along Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of the Margrave’s boys learned valuable lessons that day. Sylvain learned that his brother was not someone who was to be trusted, and Miklan learned that he should always double-check and make sure that Sylvain had no way of getting out of that stupid well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of Abuse
> 
> (There's also a tad of Lifted by Neck in this too)

Miklan always despised Sylvain, purely for existing. He had tried many things to get rid of his younger sibling, most of them involved him leaving his brother in life-threatening situations, but always managed to find a way out, which infuriated Miklan to no end. Why couldn’t he just stay put like a good boy and die? Miklan was always constantly coming up with new ideas for leaving his brother to die. Today, he would finally put one into action. 

“Sylvain,” he said, his voice the same low tone it always was. Sylvain looked away from his window, where he was watching the snowfall, and looked at his older brother with a slightly scared look on his face, most likely from all the other plots Miklan hatched that scarred him. “Want to go on a walk with me?” Sylvain was surprised but still remained skeptical.

“No, you’re just gonna abandon me again.” he said, turning his attention back to his window, as the snowfall picked up speed. Miklan grumbled and walked up behind Sylvain, and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. He turned Sylvain around, forcing him to look at him.

“I promise I won’t leave you behind again.” Miklan lied through his teeth. Sylvain looked into his brother’s eyes, and seemed to ease up a little.

“Okay.” he said cheerfully, smiling and showing off the gap in his front teeth, also caused by another one of Miklan’s plots.  _ He’s such a fool _ , Miklan thought as he let go of Sylvain’s shirt and handed him his coat. And off the two went, walking towards the woods in heavy snowfall. Miklan grinned devilishly, his plan falling perfectly into place. 

“Why did you want to go on a walk, Mikky?” Sylvain asked, using that horrendous nickname for Miklan. Luckily, Sylvain never asked any complicated questions so he always came up with answers quickly. 

“Just wanted to get out,” he explained, still holding onto Sylvain’s hand. “And I’m sure you wanted to see this beautiful snow.” Sylvain nodded his head vigorously, that stupid smile still plastered onto his face.  _ He won’t be smiling for long _ , Miklan thought once more, as the two began to approach an abandoned well. Sylvain ran up to it and looked down, trying to see if he could find anything interesting in it. This wasn’t quite what Miklan was hoping for, but he quickly hatched another plan. He walked over to Sylvain and stood behind him. 

“I can’t see anything.” Sylvain said, sounding disappointed as he tried to lean forward some more.

“Lean forward a little more, and maybe you could see something.” Miklan told him, his hand raised to push Sylvain into it, but for once, Sylvain was smart and backed away from the well and saw Miklan with his hand raised. Sylvain’s eyes grew wide as both him and Miklan stood there, almost frozen, until Miklan began to walk away, luring Sylvain closer. 

“Why did you do that brother?” Sylvain asked, keeping his distance. Miklan felt his blood boil when he heard the word “brother.” Miklan clenched his fists as he turned around to face Sylvain, a grin engraved onto his face. 

“You are not my brother,” he said angrily, walking towards Sylvain and grabbing him by the back of his coat. “If you had never been born, I would be happy, but you went and took everything from me.” Miklan approached the well with quickening speed as Sylvain began to kick and scream, but he was no match for his older brother’s strength. “And now, I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted to do.” He dangled Sylvain over the entrance to the well, Sylvain looking at him with tears and fear in his eyes. “Getting rid of you.” With that, he let go of Sylvain and walked away, ignoring the screaming that he could barely hear over the howling winds.  _ Soon, things will be as they should _ , he thought as he approached the Gautier manor. 

Both of the Margrave’s boys learned valuable lessons that day. Sylvain learned that his brother was not someone who was to be trusted, and Miklan learned that he should always double-check and make sure that Sylvain had no way of getting out of that stupid well. 


	8. Day 7: Hiding Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hapi and Constance are helping Dimitri defeat the Emperor and restore Fodlan. But when given a simple order, things take a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Broken Bones, Small Amounts of Blood

“Sally forth!” Constance yelled as she charged at an Imperial mage, Fimbulvetr cutting through their thin robes. Constance laughed her usual laugh, feeling her confidence build up.  _ None can stand the might of Constance von Nuvelle _ , she wished to shout, but the words never made it past her lips when she heard an arrow wizz past her ear. She turned around to look at the assailant, and urged her pegasus forward suddenly, the pegasus whinnying before it flew forward at a quick pace. The archer panicked and tried to fire off more arrows but Constance was quicker, as she readied Bolting and let loose on the soldier. She laughed once more when they fell over, well, more like slumped over. She heard what sounded like a horse approaching her and readied Fire just as quickly as she did with Bolting, but dispelled it when she saw that it was just Hapi.

“Coco, what are you doing?” the red-head asked in her usual slightly monotone voice. Constance just laughed louder than normal; Hapi growing ever more confused on how she could be so loud all the time.

“Why, I’m showing these Imperial fools why they never should have disbanded House Nuvelle.” she said with her usual gusto, small sparks forming in her hands. Hapi resisted the urge to sigh, which she often fought, as she just inhaled deeply, careful not to exhale sharply, as she shook her head. 

“Well, when you’re done, Chatterbox wants you to come with me to assist in surprising the Empire by sneaking into the Throne Room.” Hapi informed the blonde, a loud bang came from where the others were. Both women looked in the direction of where they heard the bang; they looked at each other and nodded before they both mounted their steeds. Hapi took the lead as she and Constance went to the room left of the Throne Room, but were caught off guard as they were greeted by a Demonic Beast, 2 mages and a few swordsmen. The two teamed up to take out the Demonic Beast first, and when it had fallen, they moved on to the swordsmen, seeing as the armour on their steeds wasn’t all that great along with the armour they wore. 

“You go for the mages, I can handle these guys.” Hapi yelled at Constance as she took out one of the swordsmen and saw two others approaching her quickly. Constance gave her a small nod as she urged her pegasus towards one of the mages, grabbing the Levin Sword she was given from the scabbard on her back. She was quick to take out the first one, but she underestimated the last mage, who hit her hard with Excalibur. It seemed too much for her pegasus, who fell down, causing Constance to be thrown forward and crash into the palace walls, a small crack being heard from near her head. 

Hapi had just taken out the last of the swordsmen when she saw Constance fly forward and collide with the walls. She threw herself off of her horse and ran towards Constance, hitting the last mage with Miasma without even looking at them; sliding onto her knees when she was close to Constance. Hapi felt her stomach churn at the sight of her best friend; Constance’s neck felt loose, almost like it was broken and there was blood that was slowly dripping down her face from her forehead. Constance felt worry shoot through her; they were so close, they can’t die here. 

“Coco…” she whispered softly, holding the blonde’s head up delicately, almost as if she would turn to dust at the slightest mishap. As if the Goddess was watching from on high, Constance’s eyes fluttered open, her focus on Hapi. Constance began to sit up without warning, startling her friend. 

“That was quite a tumble.” she muttered, wincing slightly as she moved her arms to sit up. Hapi threw herself towards Constance, throwing her arms around her. Now it was Constance’s turn to be startled; Hapi was never one for showing physical affection, which made her be so surprised when she hugged her. After a few moments, Hapi pulled away and called her horse over, Constance’s pegasus still lying motionless on the floor. The red-head reached her hand out to help her friend stand up. Constance took her hand but fell down when she felt extreme pain shoot through her arm when Hapi had pulled her up. 

“What’s wrong?” Hapi asked, her voice laced with worry as she bent down on her knee to help Constance if needed. Constance quickly threw her arms behind her back, hoping that Hapi wouldn’t catch on.

“Oh, nothing. Just a small bit of pain.” she said, laughing lightly, her throat hurting from all the laughing she did earlier. She hoped her friend would believe her, but when she met Hapi’s eyes, she knew she didn’t believe her at all.

“Something’s wrong, and you won’t tell me,” she said, matter-of-factly. She took one of Constance’s arms from behind her back carefully, but even when she was careful, Constance still winced and whimpered whenever something even lightly touched her arm. It was then that Hapi knew what was going on. Luckily, she was quick-thinking and thought of a way to get Constance on her horse. “I need you to lie down for a few seconds.” Constance obeyed, but was reluctant to lie down. 

Once she was down, Hapi carefully slipped her arms under her friend’s back and lifted her carefully. Constance being Constance, she objected to being carried like this, only to be silenced when Hapi pressed her lips to her forehead, causing her to be stunned into silence. Hapi walked quickly, yet carefully, towards her horse, carefully placing Constance onto the back of the saddle, and getting on herself. 

  
“Lean on me.” she whispered lightly, Constance doing as she was told. Soon, the two were on their way towards the Throne Room, Hapi trying to be cautious and quick all at once, trying not to cause any more harm to her friend. She felt Constance wrap her arms lightly around her waist, keeping herself on. Hapi blushed lightly at the contact, and felt Constance slump her head onto her shoulder, and felt her chest rise and fall slowly.  _ She’s probably asleep _ , Hapi thought, slowing the horse slightly to not wake her with sudden movement. She normally would’ve been annoyed and upset with her for sleeping, but she let her rest. She needed it anyway, especially if she were to stay true to her goal of restoring her House.


End file.
